Blood Draw
by Lady-AuRevoir
Summary: "I've had many lives, I could be anyone. But I choose not to be. Who am? That is a good question, though one not so easily answered."


**Chapter 1 **

She woke with a start from the cold depths of the cold water that had licked her skin, finally rising from the submerging within the waters; the adult woman slowly shook off the effects of her near death experience. She was shivering and drenched like a sickly animal. Above her she watched the inky blackness of the sky, a slight frown marring her beautiful features. Had she not woken up when she did chances are her body would have succumbed to hyperthermia by now.

Though she was still weak, her mind was able to tell her body to move. She had to get somewhere warm, just for a while to get herself situated. Mentally cursing herself, the lady made her journey to all too familiar place where she knew she would be safe for the time being. There was no doubt about that.

At first it all felt as though she had been sleeping on a cloud, instead of drfting in the currents of the river.

Upon her arrival to the headquarters, Konan couldn't shake off the dreadful feeling that she had. She was the only one left. Funny she had actually gotten used to the previous members in the Akatsuki organization. As annoying as they were, with the exception of Uchiha Itachi, she had had begun to see them as her family. It was a feeling she had not felt in years that she'd almost forgotten it.

Konan stumbled into her room grateful for the bed as her worn body fell on top of the large, plush mattress. The female Akatuski closed her amber eyes, reopening again when her mirror image stared back at her. She looked like hell. And felt like it too. Slowly Konan undressed herself. Her cloak came off first. A hand pressed at the gaping wound Tobi had delivered to her during their battle. If only she had been successful in killing the fool, unfortunately that had not been in the cards.

Blood soaked and wet, Konan disposed of her clothing. Covering her breasts she looked into the full length mirror, still pressing the hole in her abdomen. It wasn't bleeding anymore, not that she was surprised. With all of the concentration as well as what energy she had left, she focused on the wound and it only.

The hole threaded itself, then it began to shrink more and more until there was nothing left to prove of what injuries had lead to her supposed 'death'.

"I'll need to rest soon," she said to herself, after all she was the only one left. Looking down at her now healed body, she was grateful no one had ever learned of other special abilities. Hidan and Kakuzu weren't the only ones with tricks. She'd been many women in her time. Some rich, some poor. She never told anyone her true origins, it was somewhat cultivated. The only one she had actually confided in had been Nagato. Now he was no more.

The bluenette allowed her mind to drfit to her younger years, dating back many centuries. The parents who had not been her parents, yet had loved and treated her as though she had been beared from her mother's womb rather than picked from the streets. She had never known her real parents. She assumed the couple had abandoned her and had been killed. She also predicted they were dead since for years she had been looking for them, but to no avail.

_**France, 1620**_

_She pressed her small body against the wall. She could hear his shouting, and her mother's soft sobs. She was frozen with fear, too afraid to run down the hll and into the kitchen, to the safety of nanny, cook, and the serving maids. Her small, pinched fair face, with the amber eyes, was almost level with the door frame, and without meaning to, she moved her head slightly forward and peered into her father's study. _

_He was huge man, Tall and broad with black hair, he was dressed impeccably, as always he was still shouting at her mother, who, like Konan, was blue haired. One would think Konan was her biological. But that was not the case. Her mother's hair was more of an indigo. _

_Her mother was standing in front of him, trembing and fighting back tears. _

_Konan tried to understand their words. She rarely saw her father. When he was home, he was locked in his study, but he was often out, not coming in until past her bedtime. _

_"Mon Dieu, s'il vous plait...she's our child. We can't just send her away!" _

_Konan walked into the room, holding her rag doll her father had given her long ago. "Papa, no! Papa!" _

_"Ca va petite, tout va bien, vraiment, leave now, quickly," her mother said, her voie strange and choked. Samuru, her father, took his daughters back to her room. _

_"Konan, you must understand. We love you very much, please. No matter what happens to us never forget who you are. Just please do not intere with your mother and I again. Understand?" _

_"Yes, papa." _

_"Do you know why we named you 'Konan'?" _

_"No." _

_"It means little south, because that's where your mother and I found you. In the little south of France. You are our miracle, Konan. I never dreamed we'd be parents, it was as though the gods had finally answered our prayers." _

_He tucked her in, kissed her forehead and whispered sweet lullabies her ear just like her mother did. _

_It was the gentle touch of her mother that awakened her and at first Konan was confused, because blackness shrouded her form. _

_"Mama?" _

_"Shhh, ma petite. We must make no noise and be very, very quick." _

_"Are we running away?" _

_Her mother didn't answer her. Her mother dressed her in a similargown. They moved swiftly and quietly downstairs. The slam of a door opening caused Konan's mother to gather her daughter into her arms and hide her in small compartment next to the fire place. _

_"I love you, Konan." _

_Those were the last words she'd heard. _

_Konan peeped through the peep hole and immediately regretted it. Seven men came shouting into the room, her mother was whimpering and telling them something in French. Konan strained to hear, but her mother's voice was soft. It all happened so quickly. Her father rushed in, shouting and cursing in his native tongue. She could smell something foul on the men even from this distance. They were tipsy, as her mother would often say of guests when the family hosted social gatherings. _

_She could sense that destruction was on their minds. They beat up her father. Although he didn't go down so easily, but after half an hour or so he went down and never came back up. Someone had stabbed in his chest as evident by the silver dagger sticking up form his sternum. Next, Konan cried silently as they raped and cut the throat of her mother. _

_It turned to absolute chaos afterwards. The nanny, the cooks, the butlers, everyone was slaughtered right before her eyes. She remained huddled in her spot shaken to the core. _

_What was she going to do? _

_What was she going to do? _

_**What. Was. She. Going. To. Do? **_

_She didn't know what possessed her body to come out from her hiding spot, nor was she aware that the men had noticed her. Something inside of her just snapped. She kneeled over the body of her father, pulled the dagger from his chest and charged forward. _

_Crimson and guts stained the once porcelain marble floor at her feet. Konan didn't feel pain. She feel the flowing of blood as she pierced and stabbed, and decapitated the men responsible for making her an orphan. She opened her mouth to roar. Then she ran. _

_It wrought a trail of blood and mayhem, the shattered corpses of her slain enemies. Her amber eyes took on a flaming crimson, blood speckled on her face, and at the moment she was devoid of all feeling. In her mayhem she had knocked over a candle, which sparked the ivory curtains; becoming engulfed in flames. It was the smell of the smoke that made her leave the front brass doors of her home. _

_She didn't look back. There was no going back to any of this. Her happiness shattered in one moment. _

From an early age she had known pain. She knew what it was like to be forced to fend for yourself. If you don't fight you die; survival of the fittest. She probably wouldn't be here today if she had not followed her basic often underestimate pain. One should appreciate pain, for it forces one away from harming their body.

She never knew on the night what her parents were arguing about. After they were killed she moved from her humble abode with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had no other relatives, not even distant cousins. No siblings either. She was all alone in the world. One day she hopped into the horse cart of an elderly man who was glad to take her wherever she wanted. She would find herself doing that alot, hopping from one cart to another.

It was around that time she had developed the art of stealing food. She had gotten good at it. Once she had her bag of food to last her at least for a few weeks, she hide in someone's carriage until they rode off.

As the years progressed however, Konan grew tired of the petty life as a street kid. She was eighteen at the time. One day while looking for clothing she came across a man who took a great interest in her, commenting on how beautiful she was.

He wasn't handsome, nor was he ugly. However his money made up for it and she needed it. She didn't use him just for his money, perhaps it was an inate need to be pampered just as when she was child. A part of her was still accustomed to the aristocratic lifesyle.

It wasn't soon before long that she became Mrs. Sebastian Hewitt. For several years afterwards, Konan watched the count grow older whereas she remained the same. It stunned her that she still retained her youthful looks from her teenage years, not even so much as a grey hair or wrinkle. He didn't seem to mind. With her on his arm he was the envy of all counts and countesses.

She never got sick, not even so much as a cough. One day in the rose garden Konan was gathering herself a lovely bouquet of the finest roses grown by her dedicated garners. Just as she heading inside she had tripped on her elegant gown, scraping her hand severely. As she held her palm in eyes view, the streaks of red closed rapidly before her eyes.

What was she? Who was she? Deep down something told her she wasn't of this world.

With the sweep of every year, Konan kept glancing at her in her mirror waiting for any signs of aging. She almost leapt with joy as she did notice she was getting older, but not as advanced as her husband who by now had all grey hairs and was appearing rather gaunt. To her he was still the most handsome man in the world. In that rare moment she cared for the count, but alas she still did not love him like he loved her.

It finally occurred to Konan that maybe her time had stopped, that after fifty-two years her age was frozen forever.

She had no idea why she was different from the others. She felt human outwardly, inwardly was an entirely different feeling.

After taking a shower, Konan rummaged in her drawer for new clothing. It was time to rid herself of any semblance that she once wore the standard wardrobe of Akatsuki. Proper shinobi attire would do fine, if she could find any that is. She withdrew a halter top and tights. Her door opened quietly. Alert Konan swiped a kunai and poised it. She relaxed seeing the small child greet with a smile.

"Welcome back auntie!" chirped the girl, an exquisite child with beautiful long white hair.

"I didn't think you were still here." Konan tightened her towel around her body. Shiro blinked, scratched her head.

"Why wouldn't I be here?"

Her innocent purple eyes stared back at her in glee. Thinking back on it, she couldn't believe Hidan convinced Pein to let him the keep child. One mere look at her fraility and naivity she would have been cast out. This was not the case because she wasn't just a kid he picked up from his previous assignment.

She was his daughter, the result of a drunken one night stand with an unknown kunoichi. Deidara called it rape. Through an unknown number of events Hidan collected the girl one day. The mother had died of illness and as a result she'd been put in a home without a name. He had somehow gotten knowledge of the girl, found she was his love child, and unceremoniously escorted her to the organization.

He didn't waste time in giving her name. He gave her a once over and named her Shiro because of hair color. He didn't much care for a more feminine name. Hidan kept her locked in her room, only unlocking it when he needed to feed her. Or teach her the works of Jashin. Kakuzu expected a female version of Hidan with a potty mouth to boot. Instead Shiro was the exact opposite. She reminded Konan of whom she used to be.

Shiro was the only person Hidan did not despise and when her presence was a true gentlemen. Without a mother, Hidan often turned her over to Konan who in turn would often tell him the kid as his responsibility. Though she wasn't entirely cruel. Shiro occupied her, a job she enjoyed not that she would admit it.

Until now at least.

"Everyone is gone, it's just the two of us."

"Oh. And papa?"

"He's gone too, I'm sorry."

Shiro remained silent. "At least I have you. Jashin must have been listening to me. Whoever hurt you I hope he suffered." Shiro leaped towards Konan, embracing the woman in a soft hug. Konan could smell the shampoo she used on the girl. Long white lashes fluttered on her soft face.

"What's going to happen to us now?"

Konan hugged the girl in return. "I'll figure something out. I always do."


End file.
